Hi hi~~

So this is not really a 'for the viewers' type fic. This is mainly because I want to and thus will mostly ignore any future complaints for this.

Some things that will usually piss readers off that I'm putting in here:

SONG LYRICS. - NO THAT'S PRETTY MUCH IT BUT THERE'S GOING TO BE A TON OF SONG LYRICS AND STUFF IN FUTURE SORRY NOT SORRY.

ALSO POWERFUL!HARRY AND I GUESS OCs?

THERE'S PROBS MORE BUT THAT'S ALL I GOT FOR NOW.

Enjoy~~

"How have you never heard of Hellsanity?!"

It really shouldn't have been the question out of all the questions he should be asking. Something a bit less narcissistic and more forthcoming to the things he had just witnessed. The wizarding world was real? Wizards were real? He wasn't the only one with magical powers?!

The last query was a bit more offended in his mind than the previous two. After all, Harry always liked the idea that he could've been some sort of mutant and one day the X-men or SHIELD would one day knock on his door for his expertise. Well, actually Harry was a bit more interested in their expressions when they realise how far his expertise runs.

Of course that disillusioned dream was ruined now. Apparently turning books into birds and levitating objects was a fairly normal consequence in a whole different breed of human. Dammit. At least the X-men had unique skills. Harry sighed, scratching absentmindedly his cat which had trotted up to investigate all the ruckus and somehow finding his way under the child's twitching hand.

"I am sorry my dear boy," The old man suspiciously named Dumbledore said, and annoyingly enough he actually did look sorry, and like the Dumbledore in his imagination but mainly the sorry bit. "We have no idea what you're talking about." Harry sighed again, his cat purred under his touch.

This sucked. And he really wanted to be an X-man. Despite the ugly uniform. He could've made it work.

5 minutes before.

"- Sergey can I put you on hold for a moment? Yes, the representatives are right here, yes you can listen in but I'm not putting you on speakerphone. Ugh, I know you're worried about me, Sev and the guys aren't here no, no, Sergey I am pretty sure they aren't pedophilloic criminals. What? No, for one, I'm pretty sure they're fans of the show. Okay yes, they may be - and I'm making air quotes right now- 'fanatic stalkers' but they look alright. Actually you should see them, they look so much like how I envisioned Headmaster and Katherine Knight it's eerie." Green eyes looked up at the two staring adults for the first time since the boy opened his apartment door and whipped out his phone. "Hey, can I take a quick pic of you two?" He asked politely with a excitedly warm smile and a charming countenance that slid onto his face as easily as water.

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall just stared back. The child put down the sleek rectangular object from his ear and pointed it at the two 'representatives', a minute clicking sound was made from the box like device and after a few taps it was moved back to the raven haired child's ear. "Yeah, uncanny right?" The boy glanced at the professors and mouthed a silent 'Sorry,' with a vague gesture towards the box- phone- Dumbledore slowly realised. That box was a phone. And a camera. Huh. What would muggles think of next? "The woman totally could pass for Knight's older sister, or aunt, or mother, even an older Katherine herself!"

There was a pause in the rapid rambling coming from the eleven year old's mouth, though the muffled voice in the box phone was more than enough to make up for any silence. It unfortunately enough was still very awkward, even for the headmaster's standards. From the growing twitch in his companion's eye, he could say the same for McGonagall too.

"Please," The child snorted, rolling his eyes bemused. "I know what I'm doing, and yes I will try and ask for a compromise. Honestly, you do realise Hellsanity is my baby right? Because I kind of feel like you're making me feel like that I'm like, the careless trophy husband and you the neurotic mother hen. Of course I'm the trophy husband! Wha-no just because you sit pretty and get cash while I do all the work to get all the hits and views does not make you the trophy. Have you seen me? I am a prize on it's own… Oh hardy har har. Just for that you don't get to listen in. I'm hanging up, oh yes I am, don't you think I won't."

More sounds from the box, this time much more resigned mumbles. Dumbledore could relate, it was the exact sort of voice him and anyone else whose ever taught for a living, have gotten at least once if not a hundred times in their careers. The boy listening gave a sigh.

"Oh, please Sergey, darling," the drawn out drawl was strangely fitting, purposely exaggerated and dramatic, the young face grinning in complete enjoyment at the banter. "Oh don't be like that you know out of all the money hungry greedy corporate sharks out there you are obviously my favourite one. I'm pretty sure you're the company's favourite agent the moment I declared my affections for you. Besides, I'm sure…" The raven haired boy paused and looked toward the two strangers in his apartment again with a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry for being so rude but what were your names again?"

Startled out from their self induced dazes Dumbledore stepped forward with his usual grandfatherly smile and twinkle, "My name, my boy," he introduced, "Is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. My friend here is Minevra McGonagall."

The boy froze, charm and exuberance and a whirlwind like charisma sliding off his small figure like oil. "I'm going to have to call you back Sergey." He said calmly into the box, nothing like how he had been, the cheeky child that grinned as he exaggerated and dramatized his words with a bright wonderful glee before. Then this new persona that has gripped and overtaken this small juvenile form unhesitatingly silenced the voice from the phone with a press of his finger and stared at the adults with green laser focus. Dumbledore was not unafraid to admit he was rather affected by such a penetrating gaze.

"I never told anyone about those names." The boy said, it was casual the way he talked, but it was slow, calculated, like with every word a hundred scenarios are being viewed and dismissed in the boy's head. "I've never written them down and the only friends I've got who know them certainly would never betray me. So either you guys are some sort of dream walkers or telepaths or.." Small shoulders under a well pressed green shirt shrugged, "Well I don't know another option but the point is I want the truth, and what I want I usually get."

"Mr Potter," McGonagall cleared her throat, "we assure you we have no idea what you are talking about. Those are our names."

Green eyes, bright and vibrant and cutting, narrowed, scrutinizing the two robed representatives as if somehow it could coerce them to speak the words he was expecting. When that didn't work the child spoke again, "That's not possible miss." He said slowly, "You're trying to tell me that not only do you share the same faces of my characters, you also have their original names that they have in my dreams."

McGonagall and Dumbledore shared a look.

"Dreams?" She questioned.

"Characters?' Dumbledore added.

Now it was Harry's turn to give them a look. The cat that had now made his way into his arms just purred, brown eyes watching the exchange with a lazy interest.

"Uh yes. Because you know, I'm the writer and producer of Hellsanity?"

"Forgive me my boy but what on earth is a Hellsanity?" The wizened bearded man asked, visibly befuddled at this turn of events.

Harry stared.

"How have you never heard of Hellsanity?!"

Dumbledore stared into his cup of tea as the boy sitting opposite him finished his explanation. Minerva too was looking quite blind-sided once Harry was finished as well.

"Severin Snake?" Was all that managed to come out of his mouth, of all the million questions that was jumbling up in his head that was the one to come out. The headmaster couldn't help but think he may be getting a bit too old for all this sort of thing.

"My main character." Harry repeated dryly. "He's a half-blood from a distinguished old family but his father married a Bland woman and was kicked out of the family until he came back to his senses. I'm working on a better backstory for the father, Tobias Snake, I'm thinking ex-royal guard or something like that."

Dumbledore nodded like it all made sense, even though he had lost the plot sometime during the first two minutes. And that profile sounded awfully familiar..

"And you're telling us that these… individuals you've made up based on your dreams are real?" McGonagall questioned bluntly. The boy shrugged, "You tell me Mrs McGonagall. I dream about a school named Hogwarts for wizards and witches, I dream about a snake man with eyes of blood that hunts me down and I dream of a whole world where magic fills every corner and crack. Tell me if my dreams are real and I am not as mad as some of the papers claim me to be."

"Then prove it to us Harry." The headmaster said, serious and contemplating and excited all at once. "Tell us something of your dreams that only I would know to be true."

Harry looked contemplatively at the man so like the kindly manipulative wizard in his dreams. There was no harm in divulging a secret or two after all was there? It was too strange that he had gotten an owl letter on the exact day he had dreamt of getting that almost identical invitation to Hogwarts. He had thought it to be a joke, or at least a very impressive way to bribe him into some big company or esteemed film school since he had in an interview admitted that owl post would most definitely be a way to sway his heart.

Then people so identical to his characters had shown up, with names far too unique to be a coincidence. And the fact that the Headmaster and Katherine Knight have only just been introduced in his writings made things much more terrifyingly real. If they were truly fans they wouldn't have chosen the newest introduced characters to cosplay as, hell, Harry's pretty sure he's barely described them at all yet.

"The Headmaster.." Harry began slowly, sifting through his memories to find something that would undeniably not have been already revealed in his writings and would as equally be hard pressed not to discount as solid evidence for what he says to be the truth. "Had a friend. One he loved very dearly."

Dumbledore paled but said nothing.

"I plan to call this friend the Hallowman. Blond, charismatic the Hallowman was, but arrogant, always thinking to be above the rules as his brilliance outshone all those around. The Headmaster too was captured by that brilliance, but the interest was far from one-sided. Both were matched, intellectually and magically, it was fate they were to meet and befriend each other." Harry sighed as he pushed images of a red haired teen smiling softly as his hands curled around blonde locks and the sounds of summer faded from his ears, "Alas it was not meant to be. Two comets colliding makes the most beautiful sight but it's nothing more than a fanciful result of destruction in the end."

"What happened to the Hallowman?" The transfiguration teacher blurted out, unwittingly getting sucked into the weave of words Harry used. The boy was hypnotising in how he was talking right now. Before on that muggle device he sounded flighty, his smiles bright and words airy but now as Harry continued on, Minevra can see there was weight to his words; weight that pulled and tugged her attentions to it, capturing her focus in a beautiful cage.

The child glanced at the wizard, now looking older than he had before, skin ashen and blue eyes haunted and sad. "I think that's a story for another day professor."

"Indeed." Dumbledore murmured solemnly. Then with a cheer that was half faked, "Well Mr Potter that's certainly a remarkable gift you have there."

"Thank you," Harry smiled, the cheery child from before was back but the glimmer of knowing let Dumbledore know the storyteller that knew far too much was still lurking nearby. The older wizard didn't want to admit it but the boy felt too much like him for his liking. "And now I want some proof from you two."

"Excuse me Mr Potter?" The head of Gryffindor said taken aback, "I assure you we say who we are."

"I'm sorry miss," The boy said apologetically and yes, Dumbledore can see the resemblance to himself and Harry quite clearly. The years ahead was going to be quite interesting indeed. "But it's only fair since I have satisfied your need for confirmation."

Then with a casual wave of his hand a stack of documents was summoned to the table between wizard and child. Silent at the blatant display of windless magic the pair just stared at the documents blankly. This certainly had not been the visit they envisioned when Potter had requested to meet them.

"What is this Mr Potter?" McGonagall croaked.

"My conditions for my person being entered into whatever higher education I want to. It's pretty vague but I'm sure we can iron out the specifics can't we professors?" Harry smirked and Dumbledore both wanted to adopt the child and apparate to France simultaneously. It seemed the boy would be heading toward the house of green and silver if they manage to get past this meeting filled with twists and turns.

The older man looked at his tea, then back at the strange green eyed child before him. "I think," he said faintly, "I'm going to need something a little stronger."

"I can summon some whisky from the kitchens- I usually have a few bottles for any impromptu copyright lawsuits."

And Dumbledore wasn't even going to question that he felt so out of his depth. "Please."

"Me too." McGonagall added, eyeing up the impressive stack of paper in front of them.

Another wave of the child's hand and their plea was answered. Unfortunately even alcohol could not numb the two's disbelief of the sheer amount of information thrown at them.

As they slowly read through the paperwork Harry calmly answered their questions and filled the silence with explanations of his work. The pureblooded wizards were having a lot of trouble understanding the explanations though.

"I don't understand, you've been using your prophetic dreams to.. make stories on a line?"

"No, online, it's like writing a play and recording it so everyone can watch."

"I've never seen a play before." McGonagall admitted.

"People used to sing on the streets back in the day, do they still so that?" Dumbledore tried.

Harry just stared. "Maybe I should just move on to my conditions first." He muttered to himself, tugging his messy black hair in frustration. "Goodness it's so much worse than I thought."

Embarrassed at being so ignorant at what was obviously a very important thing for the Boy Who Lived the two just nodded.

"Of course my boy."

"What sort of conditions?"

The boy made a little whistling sound and soon enough the soft sounds of paws padding, wings beating and the noises of nature came bounding toward them. Dumbledore had to take off his half moon glasses and wipe them just to make sure his eyes weren't being deceived.

The same brown cat was back and it had brought friends. A large raven, a white fantail pigeon, a fox, another grey cat, two amazingly bright orange geckos, a great big black dog and a whole assortment of other animals.

"Oh my."

"Yes, as you can see I wish to continue my job as a writer and film maker during my schooling, that's really non-debatable."

"While I don't mind letting you continue your, ah, art Mr Potter I don't fully understand what this has to do with it." The older wizard gestured toward the group of ragtag animals sitting around Harry, watching the pair of professors intensely.

"It's not art sir, well it is but it's also a livelihood." Harry insisted. "And my friends are very important in my videos."

"Your livelihood." The transfiguration professor repeated confused and more than a little condescending. "Mr Potter I hardly think-"

"My videos rake in a modest three million viewers after twenty-four hours of being posted on Youtube, the subscriptions to my site cost five dollars a month not including premium subscribers and I get corporations at my door begging for me to let them in." Harry interrupted. "If a galleon is roughly worth ten dollars then in a year, one subscriber would give me six galleons plus the initial start up fee which would be maybe another two galleons. Now I have about forty-five million subscribers in America alone."

There's a lull between all three people as the adults tried to calculate that out.

"T-that's thirty six million galleons." McGonagall whispered before taking another gulp of her alcohol. It was starting to dawn on the pair how significant Harry's muggle 'job' was.

"Not including merchandising and the extra stuff I agree to for advertisements." Harry sing songed vindictively. "And since this is still a fairly new thing, I've just started doing more than just writing a year ago so it would absolutely ruin me if I had to go on hiatus so soon."

"Thirty six million." The woman just muttered disbelieving. She was one of the better paid instructors in Hogwarts and that was only a wage of five thousand galleons each year. A child less than a quarter of her age literally making mountains more than her was hard to comprehend. "Merlin."

"That still doesn't explain the animals Mr Potter." Dumbledore pointed out patiently, truth be told he was feeling a little lightheaded himself. He's pretty sure that some of the Noble wizarding families combined family vaults wouldn't have that much money.

"Right." Harry laughed, like confessing he was a millionaire at eleven years old was absolutely nothing. "These are my friends and my precious actors."

The headmaster of Hogwarts looked mournfully to his almost finished glass of whisky. McGonagall just looked torn between hysteria and fascination.

Secretly miffed that he didn't get the alarmed reaction he was hoping for Harry continued, picking up the large glossy black raven and gently putting it on his shoulder. The raven looked ready to peck the two older magic users' eyes out, it's large size and glare intimidating. Of course the boy just smiled sweetly and smoothed down a stray feather on the bird. "This is Severin Snake." He introduced.

And before the barrage of questions could come forth, they were almost immediately stopped when suddenly the raven on the child's lap became a raven no more.

"What are you dunderheads looking at?" Snapped Severus Snape.

"Severus?!" McGonagall near shrieked. Dumbledore wondered if it would be appropriate to summon his own alcohol at this point.

"It's Severin, weren't you listening to Harry?" Severin sneered, the resemblance was absolutely uncanny, though on closer inspection the man still sitting on Potter's lap was slightly younger than the Severus Snape that they knew. His nose was less hooked and a bit more beak like, his hair was glossy as his original form's feathers and overall the man looked slightly more handsome in appearance.

The fact the man was wearing nothing but tight form fitting pants and a feathered cape did not go unnoticed.

"Severin don't be rude to our guests." The two professors twisted their head to see a younger looking Lucius Malfoy watching them interestedly, he looked much more expressive and warmer than his wizard counterpart at least.

"That's Noble." Harry explained. "He was the dove. And next to him is-"

Dumbledore who did indeed produce more liquor into his glass promptly choked on it as he saw who the person currently being draped all over by the Malfoy look alike was. "Tom?!"

McGonagall too was gaping. Tom Marvolo Riddle smirked cheekily, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "Harry likes to call me Tomcat but I prefer Marvolo if you will. Marv if you simply have to shorten the name."

"If I doubted you before my boy, I certainly do not now." The older wizard said, his eyes glued to the three young men looking far happier and more alive than he'd ever seen the real ones look. "Wandless transfiguration, even animal to human transfiguration, is basically unheard of."

Harry shrugged bashfully, pushing Severin to the side- much to the raven man's discontent and Dumbledore's faint amusement- he answered, "I technically had a lifetime of schooling already, the me of that timeline had took an interest in transfiguration after graduation and while it's nothing as advanced as this, it was enough of a groundwork that raw magic and a child's fervent wish for friends could produce this."

"We'll talk about this timeline thing another day." Dumbledore decided after a moment of thought. First was making sure the boy came to Hogwarts. His fellow professor looked like she was about to say otherwise but thankfully stayed silent. "Your conditions?"

"You let us come with Harry to Hogwarts." Severin stated bluntly, his black eyes just daring the two to oppose him as he rose to his full height. Having been on the receiving end of some of Snape's best glares, both Gryffindors could easily agree that Harry had done a fine job recreating the dour potions master's appearance to a tee. "You will allow Harry to continue filming in between his academic coursework. Once a month Harry will be floo-ed out of Hogwarts for a weekend to catch up with the muggle world and update his media. Any important filming space we will request beforehand and we expect discretion especially from the muggle will pay for any damages incurred of course."

"That seems.. doable." McGonagall admitted.

Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling again, "I think I agree with Professor McGonagall, however may I ask you for a small favour?"

Harry raised a brow, "Of course but I still haven't asked about my own favour to satisfy my terms of evidence that you two are real."

"You first then."

"No you first professor, I insist."

"Very well," Dumbledore said with a faked put upon sigh, earning a small giggle from the child and a scowl from the Severus doppleganger. The headmaster felt that he could get used to this unforeseen anomaly that was Harry Potter, it seemed they shared more than hidden secrets. "I ask you to perform a few of your.. songs during the beginning of the year feast if you will. I must admit you've gotten me curious about what it is you actually do, and I've always thought music was magic beyond that of a simple wand. So if you wouldn't mind.."

"You want me to set up a club?" Harry asked amused, Dumbledore's smile widened as he nodded. "Of course professor I would be delighted, it'll also give muggleborns a better opportunity for future work- I can't exactly hire people unaware of magic when I start expanding my options after all."

A Slytherin indeed this child was.

"Brilliant," The old man beamed, "Now your favour?"

Harry tilted his head then gave his own beaming smile, clapping his hands excitedly and look for all intents and purposes a jubilant boy. "Ah yes, how thoughtless of me to almost forget."

The headmaster of Hogwarts chuckled not buying the lie for a moment and rather enjoying the subtle banter growing between the two.

"I would like you guys to come to my second live concert." Harry said cheerily, "I insist on all the professors coming actually, VIP tickets and everything. It'll be in a week and a half."

"Well that sounds simply-"

"And I expect Sirius Black to be there."

Once again silence descended the room like the plague to a poverty stricken village.

"He's innocent you know." Harry added, "If you put him under Veritaserum and give him a proper trial you'll see. And if I'm right it proves without a doubt my dreams are more or less true. Which means that I'll believe this whole Hogwarts thing isn't an elaborate prank."

"I.. see…" Dumbledore murmured. Severin rolled his eyes, getting faint snickers from the other two animals turned humans and a few snuffles from the peanut gallery. The logic of Harry's dreams had always vexed the bird, after all, what sort of incompetent morons just accepted that someone managed to blast another human being so hard that nothing but a single suspiciously intact finger was left in the debris. Incompetent wizarding morons apparently. "Yes well, if that's true we certainly can't doubt your gift Mr Potter. I certainly have a lot to think about."

Harry nodded sagely, "That you do professor. I'll send you tickets and some hardcopies of some of my writings tomorrow nonetheless. Even if you fail your task, I would like you and professor McGonagall here to hopefully enjoy my work. Good day professors."

"Good day." The headmaster replied absentmindedly, dragging a still reeling witch out the door.

As Dumbledore began frantically arranging a retrial for one Sirius Black, the parcel filled with the promised hard copies and tickets was received.

McGonagall, almost against her will fell in love with it by the fifth chapter. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout too quickly got taken in to the elaborate story and complex characterisation after a curious read.

"Lilac must've really loved Severin, it's actually the most tragic thing that she died protecting him. They would've made such a sweet couple." The Hufflepuff head of house sighed as she finished the sixth chapter where Severin was currently holding his first love's body in desperate tears. She wiped her suspiciously blurry eyes as she remembered how the words had managed to describe the scene in such horribly vivid detail.

Flitwick flipped another page of the manuscript, eyes glued onto the pages with a fervour that only a true Ravenclaw's hunger for books could truly achieve, "Don't be ridiculous," He said, "Lilac loved Severin yes, but it was only platonic. It's the bittersweetness of unrequited love that makes the whole relationship both saddening and beautiful as it's immortalised in that chapter through death."

"Surely it wasn't just platonic," Sprout argued heatedly, "I'm sure if Mr Potter didn't kill off Lilac she would've gotten over that Mason shmuck soon enough and-"

"And what fallen in love with Severin and had a happily ever after?" The half goblin scoffed, "Please Pomona you cannot be that deluded. Lilac effectively tried to break off her relationship of ten solid years with Snape because of a few derogatory words, and then immediately started going steady with Severin's tormenter? Yeah that definitely spells perfect romance to me."

"It was in a fit of passion!" Sprout cried.

"It was shallow!" Flitwick argued back.

"Quiet!" McGonagall hissed, "Or I will take back those copies of yours and give them to Mrs Norris."

The two professors immediately stopped, going back to their respective places in the story. Though not before giving a few poisonous glares.

It was at that moment Dumbledore strode in excitedly into the staffroom, "The Sirius Black retrial is set in two days. Harry said he wanted us to arrive an hour earlier than the given time set on the tickets and to disguise ourselves a bit for obvious reasons."

"We're in the story too?" Flitwick squealed excited, his fingers twitching to just flip near the end of the unfinished narrative just to see if he can spot his character.

Dumbledore brightened when he saw the three professors avidly reading Harry's work, truth be told he's become a fan himself. Once he had started it was quite the task to tear his eyes away from the words. He can only imagine watching the actual story unfold like in a muggle television. "Oh, have you got up to the part where Severin find's out his name is-"

"SPOILERS ALBUS!" All three professors shrieked horrified. "How dare you?" Professor Sprout hissed venomously. The headmaster looked appropriately chagrined.

"Ah, apologies. Well have you at least got to when-"

"ALBUS FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN GET OUT."

Honestly, for a man who kept his cards close to his chest, the elderly wizard seemed to have no qualms about ruining a perfectly good plot.

"On behalf of the Ministry of Magic we apologise for what we have done to you Mr Black. We've deposited two thousand galleons to convey our deep apologies."

Sirius looked blankly at the wizard in plum coloured robes. He had suffered in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit and all they could say was fucking sorry and give some cheap monetary offering?

The wizard looked uncomfortable under the ex-criminal's gaze and awkwardly patted the man's shoulder before scuttling away like a cockroach. Sirius didn't care though, not when he stepped out of the ministry and there was fresh air in his lungs and sun on his skin.

He was free.

And apparently had a godson to thank.

Severus Snape scowled, his mood can be easily described as a storm cloud. Except instead of the usual rain of water there was acid and fire. He hated that Black was free, hated that he was forced out tonight for this farce of a concert in America of all places and most of all hated that Harry bloody Potter was apparently the reason for it all.

Potter being a seer was surprising. Potter using his abilities to seek attention in lavish shallow entertainment and to ruin his day was, unfortunately, less surprising.

Of course the majority of the staff hadn't even met the boy and he was already the golden apple of their eyes. Snape rolled his own at that. The dour man had refused to even read that so called tale that Potter had wrote, the fact that he was the basis for a main character even more so.

Knowing the brat he was probably written as some sort of laughingstock. He's not blind, he's seen the way Minevra has been looking at him strangely.

Dumbledore was leading the small group of professors and Black down the streets of muggle London. Everyone was dressed in smart casual muggle attire, courtesy of a fashion magazine that had also been mailed to them, and most had altered their appearance ever so slightly as well with the exception of Snape and Black. Snape, not wanting to follow another request of the spoiled child any more than he was forced to and Black because he'd was still recovering and was unaware of it.

"I think this is it!" Dumbledore declared excitedly, his long white hair was tied up in a ponytail and his face strangely bereft of his long flowing beard. The wizards and witches couldn't help but gape at the sheer amount of people surrounding the building the headmaster gestured to. The crowd was practically overflowing the area. If they were really all here for Potter's show then Snape had to reluctantly admit that maybe news of the child's popularity wasn't so farfetched.

Though the quality of these people making up the child's popularity was another thing all together.

"These people all came here to see Harry?" Black rasped, the first proper sentence he's said since joining them. His face was pale and gaunt but right now the man was looking at the flashing lights and raucous sea of people with the awe of a five year old at the carnival for the first time.

"It would seem so." Professor Sprout said, equally as awed at the amount. "It's a good thing Quirrell couldn't come though, I'm sure the man would have gotten a heart attack what with how timid he is nowadays."

"Though that spare ticket clearly went to good use." Flitwick smiled as Hagrid stood next to him practically beaming sunlight from his teeth.

"This is just so very exciting." Dumbledore said, "I am curious how this muggle concert works,"

"It's very flashy." Snape sneered at the crowd of people. He sneered harder as he noticed two teenage girls gawking at him but to his surprise, they didn't look away not scuttle off hurriedly, they.. shrieked.

"Oh my GOD!" Girl One screamed as she waved her hands like a madwoman. Girl Two looked ready to hyperventilate herself to an early grave, "It's SEVERIN SNAKE!"

And suddenly it was like the crowd had apparated around them, everyone clambering to see the now stunned potions master. "What th-"

"Severin, can I get an autograph?"

"A picture I beg you!"

"I am such a fan you have no idea!"

"In that scene where you-"

"-you helped me get over-"

"-sign my shirt?"

"You don't understand how much I-"

"-can't even-"

Just as Snape was about to get completely overwhelmed by the sheer enthusiasm, the whole mob as one sheer unit gasped. Following their stares, Snape twisted his neck behind him to see an almost identical younger version of himself scowling.

"What are bloody fools doing to my uncle?" Uncle? "Can't you use those eyes of yours or are they just as worthless as the space between them?" The look alike sneered, earning himself some very high pitched screams of happiness from the obviously crazy group of people.

"SEVERIN I LOVE YOU!" One particular enthusiastic man in his 20s screamed.

The look alike, Severin, pressed the back of his hand to his mouth at the sudden loudly voiced marriage proposals surrounding them. Smiling, Snape realised, his younger looking clone was trying to hide a smile. It made the man look less like the potions master, more handsome and kind in the way he acts so bashful as he tries to keep up his taciturn appearance.

Snape looked toward where he can see his fellow professors had reassembled themselves, they were all watching him visibly amused. Bastards. He decided to let his gaze go back to Severin, now fully smiling and signing autographs for ecstatic fans.

Not one to miss out on an opportunity, Snape gathered his remaining dignity and not scampered exactly, but skulked back to his coworkers. He was both intrigued at this Severin character and at the same time desperately wanting to go back to his quarters and curse every single decision in his life leading him here.

"You should smile more Severus." McGonagall teased, "If you look anything like how he smiles I bet you would be a very popular teacher."

If anything the man just scowled harder.

"-orry everyone, but I've got my orders to escort my uncle and the other representatives to the VIP area," There was a chorus of awwws, "I'll see you at the concert though?" Even louder hyped up cheers.

Severin gave a wide smile that made him look much more boyish than he had seemed to be at first, making the mob go wild as lights of cameras flashed. The man turned to face the Hogwarts professors with a sly smirk that got even Hagrid flushing a bit. "Well then, what are you all just gawking at? We can't just let Harry keep waiting."